LYSSA

Three

A/N: Thank you guys for reading my story! This chapter shows Sprout! Now this chapter does have a trigger warning for vomit and drooling, so be cautious! Enjoy! <3

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Alistar must have dosed off, he awoke to Dewey and Rocco lingering over him in the darkness. His heart leaped for a minute, then relaxed. Dewey always knew where he hid. "Are you ready?" he asked in a low mew. Alistar nodded, following the two buff tom cats out of the clearing and into the pine woodlands.

The forest around them was dark and quiet. Usually, there's some sort of rustling in the branches from owls, bats, squirrels even. Not tonight. Everything was eerily quiet. Alistar had the fur on his back standing on end, ready to pounce if he had to. He still had the protection of Dewey and Rocco with him, but he still didn't feel right. Something is off. That rancid smell was stronger than it was before. It was making Alistar's nose curling upwards, his head shaking a bit trying to get the smell to leave his airways. He glanced over at Dewey and Rocco to see if they smelled it too, but they seemed to be nonchalant about it.

After a ways into the woods, the trio of tom cats stopped and all stared at each other. Rocco meowed first, his voice deep and low. "Okay, Dewey and I will check the marshfields. Are you sure you're okay with being alone?" Rocco's meow thundered the silence within the woods. Alistar looked around them, the woods still eerily silent. He nodded his head in agreement, feeling illegal to break the silence even more. Rocco and Dewey bowed their heads at the sleek black tom. "Okay, we'll meet again at the entrance before we go into camp together again," Rocco confirmed the plans with the other two.

Everyone agreed and went their separate ways. Alistar hesitated before making his way towards the river. The further he got from the camp, away from the others, the more that smell became poignant. It was so strong, that Alistar thought about just running in the opposite direction, abandoning the area. What if that raccoon was out and about over here? What if Milo was wrong? What if it traveled to the river instead of the marshfields?

Alistar could finally hear the rushing of the water. The only noise to fill the eerie silence around him. He took a moment to lap up some of its ice-cold liquid before doing the first marking on the largest boulder. There was a faint rustling behind him all of a sudden, making his fur immediately stand on end. He unsheathed his claws, ready to pounce or run if he had to.

Suddenly, out came bounding a white kitten with very few black spots across his flank. Alistar kept his hair up and claws out. Sprout. "What the fuck are you doing out alone?!" Alistar hissed to the kitten. "Bandit better not be with you, so I swear he'll hear some of my choice words before Milo and Shelby get the chance-"

Sprout cut him off by suddenly vomiting all over in front of him. The liquid coming from his mouth was very foamy, with a white and yellow tint to it. It smelt rancid. It smelt familiar. Alistar took a step or so back, keeping his claws out. "Woah, Sprout, you okay?" he mewed to the kitten. He was suddenly overwhelmed with concern instead of anger. Sprout didn't even try to talk back to the sleek tomcat. He didn't try to make an excuse or try to run away once caught. Something is wrong with him.

Alistar turned his back to the kitten for a moment. He paced to the water's edge and dipped in a large clump of moss. Once it was fully soaked and dripping wet, he rushed over to Sprout and placed it down next to him. That smell, that rancid sick smell from before. It's even stronger now that he's next to him. Alistar tried to ignore it, pushing and prodding the moss to the kitten. Sprout was now lying on his side, heavily breathing. "Sprout, try drinking some water. You probably ate some rotten kill." he tried to get the kitten to concentrate on him.

Sprout continued to just lay on his side, panting obsessively. His eyes were wide and watery, pupils fully dilated. Alistar's fur never relaxed. He couldn't relax. He'd never seen a cat act this way when they were sick. He has had stomach rot before, which lasted a quarter moon. But he never smelt like this. This smelt worse than stomach rot, or white cough. This was something new.